Deathless
by ladeste
Summary: For almost as long as Ace could remember, he'd been able to see ghosts.


For almost as long as Ace could remember, he'd been able to see ghosts.

The bandits couldn't. Not Dadan, or Magra, or Dogra, or any of the others. It had been a point of conflict for months, just after Ace had turned six.

Ace wanted to know more about the pretty lady that had started following him around all of a sudden. Why didn't she talk? Why did she look so sad? But the bandits had laughed at him, telling him that 'pretty ladies don't just appear', and if there was a lady around 'where was she?' He didn't understand what they were talking about. She was right there!

Convinced that he'd made up an imaginary person, the bandits teased Ace relentless, driving him away from the safety of the base and out into the silent forest. After all, the pretty lady never laughed at him.

Months later the weather began to cool. The island never truly got cold, but the night air was crisp, and Ace often spent his days running around in a singlet shirt and shorts – if he wore a shirt at all. When a bad cold set in, Ace found himself stuck in the base, shivering under a pile of blankets, his nose blocked making it hard to breath.

The bandits weren't unkind to him. They took care of him in the most basic of forms –ensuring that he was still breathing, feeding him soup when he couldn't get down his bowl of rice– but as soon as they could, they distanced themselves from him, not wanting to become ill themselves.

The pretty lady didn't leave him though.

She was there.

Every time he opened his bleary eyelids her shimmering form was knelt beside him. Though she couldn't touch him, her hand grazed over the top of his head, but as he passed in and out of consciousness, he sometimes thought he could feel her stroking his hair.

It was nice.

Even if she couldn't speak to him, only ever nodding or shaking her head to his questions, it was nice to know that someone was there for him. Someone cared. The fact that no one could see her didn't bother him anymore. He preferred it in a way. She was his, and he didn't have to share her with anybody.

Ace's cold passed, and in time so did the cooler weather.

With the return of his health, Ace quickly returned to his outdoor explorations, learning the layout of the forest, and filling his days with adventures of his own design. Most days Ace's adventures were carried out in silence, his tuneless humming occasionally reverberating in his throat. Other days he tried to find out more about the pretty lady, but his questions about her past tended to make her sad, so instead he focused on the present. Asking about things in the forest, or whatever random train of thought took his fancy at the time.

However, it wasn't until his Grandfather's visit a month before his seventh birthday that he finally received answers for his numerous questions.

Gramps' early morning arrival had been herald in his usual manner, a section of the wall exploding inwards as his booming laugh rang through the small cabin.

"Bwahaha! Where's my rascal of a grandson?"

Ace jolted upright, his heart pounding at the unexpected awakening. The tension in Ace's shoulders eased, his breathing slowing as his mind woke up to what was going on around him. Shuffling back against the wall as quietly as he could manage, Ace watched the heated yelling match that Dadan had captured Garp in. If they were yelling at each other, they weren't yelling at him.

A shimmer in the corner of his eye alerted Ace to the pretty lady's reappearance –where she went when he slept, he didn't know. Flicking his gaze over to her, Ace's lips twitched in amusement as she stood with her hands on her hips and a nasty scowl twisting her facial features into a fierce showing of anger.

What had Gramps done to upset the nicest lady he knew?

As the shouting match wound down with Dadan's inevitable defeat, Ace turned his attention back to his grandfather, his body curled over to make him seem as small as possible.

A grin worked its way onto Garp's face as he automatically zeroed in on his eldest grandson. However, his movement forward faulted as he finally took notice of Ace's surroundings. Portgas D. Rouge… An unhappy Rouge... A _very_ unhappy Rouge.

"Ah…"

Ace's eyes widened as his attention flickered back and forth between the pretty lady and his stunned grandfather.

"Gramps?" Ace asked tentatively, "Can you–"

"Let's go for a walk! Yes, a walk! Just what we need! A nice long walk! Just us!"

If the bandits found Garp's behaviour odd, they didn't mention it. Nor did they comment when Garp plucked Ace up gently and plopped him on his shoulders, as if that was the way he always handled his grandson –and not by picking him up by the scruff of his shirt.

"Well, off we go!"

Ace's fingers wove into Garp's hair for balance as the marine jauntily bounced towards the cliffs. Ace remained silent as they traversed through the forest. The pretty lady was still following them, and remained looking displeased. Something that Garp appeared to be aware of as he routinely glanced over his shoulder only to wince and return his focus straight ahead.

Passing through the tree line, out to the expanse of grass that finished at the cliff, Garp carefully set his young charge down. Sinking to the ground, Garp sat cross legged motioning Ace to do the same. Ace did as he was bid, shifting uncomfortably as Garp stared at him, resolutely ignoring the third presence.

"Gramps, can you–"

"Yes. I can see her too."

Hundreds of questions raced through Ace's mind. So many that Ace found himself unable to decide which was the one he wanted answered first. In the end, Garp gave him two answers and sparked an avalanche of new questions.

"Her name's Rouge. She was your mother."

"My–"

Ace's voice choked on the lump that had formed in his throat. His eyes cast down as he stared at his clasped hands. It would have been a simple question to ask her. He'd thought about asking time and time again. Each time dismissing it as a wish, a dream, and nothing more. If he'd asked her if she was his mother, the pretty lady – _Rouge_ – could have given him one of two answers, yes, or no. A fifty-fifty chance that could shatter his dream. A risk he hadn't been willing to take.

Not knowing meant that he could pretend.

She was his secret, his pretty lady, his mother, and if he didn't ask, if he didn't mention it, no one could tell him otherwise.

But she _was_.

She _was_ his mother.

She _was_ his.

But she _wasn't_ a secret.

Lost in his thoughts, Ace didn't notice Garp's softened gaze until he broke through the silence they'd fallen into.

"She died giving birth to you–"

"No she didn't! How can you say that?! She's here! She's right here with us!"

"Ace" Garp murmured, one of his large hands coming to rest of Ace's shaking shoulders, "That's enough, calm down."

Ace's bowed his head in a futile attempt to hide the tears tracking down his face, as the loss of a woman he'd never truly get to meet weighed heavy in his chest. She was real, she had to be. Gramps wasn't his real grandfather, he'd always known that, he had no family, and now he had his mother, but he didn't. It wasn't fair.

"Life often isn't fair."

Ace's shoulders hunched over further, not having realised that he'd spoken his last thought out loud.

As Ace's sobs grew louder, Garp finally looked to Rouge, hoping the spirit could guide him where he was otherwise operating blind. Luffy had yet to start seeing ghosts, and Dragon had accepted the presence of ghosts well (although his first sighting was that of his grandfather not of his mother so the difference was to be expected).

Rouge's glare was still firmly in place, her eyes burning brighter than they were earlier. Snapping her head away from Garp and to her son, Rouge floated closer to her precious boy, kneeling by his side she made the motions of wrapping her arms around him. Her transparent hold a pale mimicry of what she wished she could do.

Realising that he could do what Rouge couldn't, Garp pulled Ace into his lap, ignoring the way they passed through Rouge as he brought Ace in close. Subconsciously, Garp began rocking gently as he'd done with Dragon when he was just a babe. As the sun rose higher, Ace's body wracking heaves eased, his small fist curling into Garp's floral print shirt.

Feeling Ace's calm, Garp kept his voice low and serene as he tried to explain what he could without sending Ace into another fit.

"What you're seeing is her spirit that has remained in the living plain. It's something to do with the line of D. and the void century. I've looked, but most of the answers have been lost over time. I think… I think you father knew, but he never told me what he'd discovered."

Garp paused as he waited for the information to sink in. When Ace shifted his head against Garp's chest in the affirmative, Garp continued.

"You won't see everyone, only the people who are closest to you. They won't be there all the time either, I can't tell you why the come and go as they do. Sometimes…" Garp took a deep breath, seeing the dead became easier over time, but it was never easy, "Sometimes if you call for someone they will come, other times they won't. It's just the way it is."

Garp lapsed into silence once more, letting Ace absorb what little Garp could offer about one of the burdens Ace would carry through his life.

"My… my dad's gone too. You've said so before. Why… why isn't he here?"

"There's a lot I haven't told you about your dad."

Ace tilted his head away from Garp's chest, his eyes seeking out those of his mother, hoping to gage what her response was to all of this. The anger still lingered in her posture, but her eyes had lost their heat, instead she looked sad, like she had the few times he'd tried to ask about her past. Leaning back to look up at Garp, Ace probed him quietly.

"Tell me?"

"His name was Gol D. Roger. We were… rivals of a sought. I'm a marine, and he was a pirate, we were on opposite sides, but both D.'s. Roger, he was the strongest force on the sea. Eventually he was given the title King of the Pirates. But he was caught and executed before you were born. Rouge carried you for as long as she could to keep you safe, to keep your relation to Roger a secret, it's why you carry your mother's family name... There are many who believe that Roger was the devil, and many of those people would believe you to be the same. That's why you _cannot tell anyone_ , Ace. You'd be in grave danger if the marines, or any of Roger's enemies found out."

Ace stiffened as his father's past was laid out. A mix fear, pain, and horror encompassed him, but still the questioned remained.

"Why? Why hasn't he come?"

Rouge edged closer to the pair as Garp searched for the words to respond. Reaching out, Rouge cupped her hands around Ace's face, an intangible cradle as she tried to ease the troubled thoughts that had etched their way onto his face. Echoing her hovering movements, Ace raised a hand to settle next to her own hand, the two hands, one big and one small, separated by time and space, death and life.

Not wanting to interrupt the tender moment, or waste the time to think that Rouge had bought him, Garp refrained from speaking. He didn't know why Roger had not appeared before Ace. Whilst they hadn't been close, he'd seen Roger twice after his death. The first, just after his execution, Roger's body still on the platform, as his spirit separated from his body, winking at Garp in his usual knowing manner, then disappearing.

The second had been at Ace's birth. Rouge had been fading quickly, her eyes locked on her baby boy, a smile twisting along her lips. If she'd known Roger was in the room with them, she hadn't given him any indication. Unlike Roger, her spirit had not appeared after her final breath, and Roger had only nodded at him before fading out of existence again.

Rouge however, had never appeared before Garp until now. Another question on the ever growing list that Garp didn't have answers to. His reprieve was broken when Rouge's hands drew back from Ace's face, resting in her lap.

"I don't know why he hasn't come. We could try to call him though."

Seeing the query forming on Ace's lips, Garp continued with an explanation.

"Close your eyes, and focus on his full name, Gol D. Roger. Normally, if you know what the person looked like, you should focus on that as well. Since you don't, I will try as well."

Drawing on the visage of Roger as he last saw him, Garp called the Pirate King's name in his mind. The seconds passed and the tell-tale signs of a spirit's approach –cooling air, a shimmer, the pull on his observation haki– didn't come. Opening his eyelids, Garp's shoulders fell as Roger's ghost failed to present itself. Ace still had his eyes screwed shut, his lips mouthing his father's name. Rouge shook her head sadly as she looked away from them.

"Ace? That's enough. You can open your eyes. He hasn't come."

Ace swallowed harshly as his eyes blinked open. Why–? Just why. Peering up at Gramps through his eyelashes, Ace took in his clenched jaw and furrowed brows. They'd been enemies. Perhaps that was why. Maybe his father wouldn't come to see him whilst Gramps was here.

It didn't explain why he'd never seen him, but now that he knew he could call him, he could try again later.

His father would come.

Demon or not.

Pirate King or not.

He would come when his son called. He would.

Tomorrow, he'd try again tomorrow.

The sun was beginning to sink, having long since passed its midday peak, and Garp had to get back to the marines. He'd only been meaning to drop Luffy off with the Mayor, stay the night whilst Luffy settled in, then sprint up the mountain for a lightning fast visit to Ace in the morning. He was meant to be back by lunch, running late by half a day could be explained away with a clingy Luffy, spending an extra day or two could not.

He was going to have to leave Ace to figure things out on his own.

He would try to schedule a break soon, but doing so too soon would also raise eyebrows, and then he'd having people poking their noses into things that he'd rather left undisturbed.

Scooping Ace up and back onto his shoulders, Garp set a sedate pace through the forest, giving Ace as much time as he could to ask any more questions. None were forthcoming. As the bandit's base came into view, Garp shifted Ace back onto the ground, kneeling down to his height, as Rouge remained standing on his left.

"I have to get back to work, but I promise I'll come back and explain more as soon as I can. There's a lot I don't know, but whatever I can answer, I will. We'll get some training in next visit too."

Ace nodded his understanding but didn't offer any verbal reply, or any response to Garp's brief ruffle of his hair. There was too much on his mind, to many thoughts swirling in his head to focus on promises of future answers that may not even come.

As Garp wandered out of view, Ace heard his name being called by the bandit that had been sent to fetch him for dinner. The lure of food was too strong to resist as Ace's stomach rumbled from having missed breakfast and lunch due to Garp's arrival and subsequent talks on the cliff. He ate with his normal vigour, snatching food when the bandits became distracted with the antics of another, or causing such a distraction himself to score a second and third helping.

With his belly full, Ace slunk away from the group as they broke out the remains of the alcohol they had pilfered the previous week. His mother waited by the door to the bathroom as he headed inside to clean his teeth and get ready for bed. Climbing beneath his blanket, Ace tucked himself into a tight ball as he watched the pretty lady that was actually his mother.

Gripping the blanket tightly, Ace managed a small smile as he addressed her for the first time that day.

"Goodnight… mum."

The responding smile lit up her face, beyond any smile she'd ever given him before. A burst of warmth coiled its way through his chest as he ducked his head, a slight blush blooming on his cheeks.

She may not be alive, but she was still here. She wanted him, and she loved him. Why else would she spend her days watching over him?

Whilst he had so many things he wanted to learn about her, the emotional toll of the day was wearing on him. His eyes dropping closed for longer and longer periods.

A shiver ran down Ace's spine as he felt something cold brush against his forehead. Forcing his eyes open for the final time that night, Ace watched his mother pull back from where she'd bent over him, her hands pressing together as she tilted her head against them, urging him to go to sleep.

Ghosts were real.

His mother was real.

He wasn't making the whole thing up inside his head.

With the reassurance that he was no longer alone, sleep took him for the night, the noise of the partying bandits lulling him to sleep.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I'm not really sure that I'm going to continue this, but I had it written and sitting in my folder, so I figured I should share it.**


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